The second tome of the Palace of pleasure conteyning store of goodly histories, tragicall matters, and other morall argument, very requisite for delighte and profit. Chosen and selected out of diuers good and commendable authors: by William Painter, clerke of the ordinance and armarie. Anno. 1567.

Euphimia of Corinth.

¶ EVPHIMIA the King of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 daughter fell in loue with ACHARISTO, the seruant of hir fa∣ther, and besides others which required hir to mariage, she disdained PHILON the king of PELOPONESVS, that loued hir 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉, ACHARISTO conspiring a∣gainst the king, was discouered, tormented, and put in pri∣son, & by meanes of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 deliuered. The king promised his daughter and kingdome, to him that pre∣sented the heade of ACHARISTO. EVPHIMIA so wrought, as he was presented to the King. The King gaue him his daughter to wyfe, and when he dyed made him his heyre. ACHARISTO began to hate his wyfe, and condemned hir to death as an adulteresse. PHILON deliuered hir: & vpon the sute of hir subiects, she is cōten∣ted to marie him, & therby he is made king of Corinth.

The. xv. Nouel.

COnstancie in Honeste loue, (beyng a perfect vertue, and a precious ornament to the belo∣ued, indewing 〈◊〉〈◊〉, besides ioy and conten∣tacion, wyth immortall same fame & glorie,) hath in it self these only marks and propertyes to bée knowne by, Chastitie & toleration of aduer∣sitie: For as the mynd

is constant in loue, not variable, or giuen to chaunge, so is the bodie continent, comely, honest and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Fortunes plagues. A true cōstant mynd is moued with no sugred persuasions of friendes, is diuerted with no eloquence, terrified with no threates, is quiet in all mo∣tions. The blustering blastes of parents wrath, can not remoue the constant mayde from that which she hath pe∣culiarly chosen to hir selfe. The rigorous rage of frien∣des, doth not dismay the louing man from the embrace∣ment of hir, whom he hath amongs the rest selected for his vnchanged féere. A goodly exāple of constant & noble loue this history ensuing describeth, although not like in both, yet in both a semblable cōstancie. For Euphimia a Kings daughter, abandoneth the great loue borne vn∣to hir by Philon, a yong Prince, to loue a seruant of hir fathers, with whome she perseuered in greate constan∣cie, for all his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and ingrateful dealings towards hir. Philon séeyng his loue despised, neuer maried vntill hée maried hir, whome afterwardes hée deliuered from the false surmised treason of hir cancred and malicious hus∣bande, Euphimia fondly maried against hir fathers wil, and there fore deseruedly after wards bare the penaunce of hir fault: And albeit she declared hir selfe to bée con∣stant, yet dutie to louing father ought to haue withdra∣wen hir rashe and headie loue. What daungers doe en∣sue such like cases, examples be 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and experience tea∣cheth. A great dishonour it is for the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Gentle∣womā to disparage hir no 〈◊〉〈◊〉 house with mariage of hir inferior. Yea and great grief to the parents to sée their children obstinate & wilfull in carelesse loue. And albeit the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Propertius describeth the vehemente loue of those that be noble, and haue wherwith in loue to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉, in these verses:

Great is the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Loue; the constant mynde doth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉: And he that is well fraught with wealth, in Loue doth much preuaile.

Yet the tender damosell or louing childe, be they ne∣uer so noble or riche, ought to attende the fathers time and choise, and naturally encline to their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & liking, otherwise great harme and detriment ensue: For when the parents sée y^t disobediēce or rather rebellious minde of their childe, their conceiued sorowe for the same, so gnaweth the rooted plante of naturall loue, as either it hastneth their vntimely death, or else ingēdreth a heape of melancholie humors: which force them to proclaime 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and bitter cursse against their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fruite, vp∣on whome (if by due regarde they had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ruled) they woulde haue pronounced the swéete blessyng that Isaac gaue to Iacob, the mothers best beloued boye: yea and that displeasure may chaunce to dispossesse them of that, which should haue bene the only comfort and stay of the future age. So that negligence of parents 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and care∣lesse héede of youthful head, bréedeth double woe, but spe∣cially in the not aduised childe: who tumbleth him selfe first into the breach of diuine lawes, to the cursses of the same, to parents wrath, to orphans state, to beggers life, and into a sea of manifold miseries. In whome had obe∣dience ruled, and reason taken place, the hearte mighte haue bene 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the parent well pleased; the life ioy∣fully spent, and the posteritie successiuely tast the fruits that elders haue prepared. What care and sorrow, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 what extremitis the foresayde noble Gentlewoman 〈◊〉〈◊〉, for not yelding to hir fathers minde, the sequele shal at large declare.

There was sometimes in Corinth, a Citie of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, a King, which had a daughter called Euphimia, very ten∣derly

beloued of hir father, and being arriued to the age of mariage, many noble men of Grecia made sute to haue hir to wife. But amongs all, Philon the yong king of Peloponessus, so fiercely fell in loue wyth hir, as hée thought he coulde no longer liue, if hée were maried to any other. For which cause hir father knowing him to be a King, and of singular beautie, and that he was far in loue with his daughter, woulde gladly haue chosen him to be his sonne in law, persuading hir that she shold liue with him a life so happie as was possible for any no∣ble lady matched with Gentleman, were he neuer so ho∣norable. But the daughter by no meanes woulde con∣sent vnto hir fathers will, alleaging vnto him diuers & sundry considerations, wherby hir nature by no means woulde agrée, nor heart consent to ioyne with Philon. The king aboue al worldly things loued his fair daugh∣ter: and albeit he woulde faine haue broughte to passe, that she should haue taken him to husband, yet he wold not vse the fathers authoritie, but desired that Loue ra∣ther than force, should match his daughter, and therfore for that tyme was contented to agrée vnto hir will. There was in the Court a yong mā, borne of hir fathers bondman, which hight Acharisto, and was manumised by the King, who made him one of the Esquiers for his bodie, and vsed his seruice in sundry enterprises of the warres, and bicause he was in those affaires very skil∣full, of bolde personage, in conflictes and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ve∣rie hardie, the King did very much fauor him, aswell for that hée had defended him from manifold daungers, as also bycause he had deliuered hym from the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pre∣tended against him by the king of the Lacedemonians. Whose helpe and valiance, the king vsed for the murder and destruction of the sayde Lacedemonian King. For which valiant enterprise, hée bountifully recompenced

him with honorable prefermentes and stately reuenues. Upon this yong man, Euphimia fired hir amorous eyes, and fell so farre in loue, as vpon him alone she bent hir thoughtes, and all hir louing cogitations: Wherof A∣charisto béeing certified, and well espying and marking hir amorous lookes, nourished with like flames the fire, wherewith she burned. Notwithstandyng his loue was not so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bent vpon hir personage, as his desire was ambicious for that she shoulde be hir fathers onely heire, and therfore thought that he shold be a most hap∣pie man, aboue all other of mortall kynde, if hée might possesse that inheritance. The king perceuing that loue, told his daughter, that she had placed hir mynde in place so straunge, as hée had thought hir wisdome wold haue more warely forséen, and better wayed hir estate & birth, as come of a princely race, and would haue demed such loue, farre vnworthie hir degrée: requiring hir with fa∣therly words, to withdraw hir settled mynde & to ioyne with him in choise of husbande, for that he had none o∣ther worldly heire but hir, and tolde hir howe he meant highly to bestowe hir vpon such a personage, as a moste happie life she should leade, so long as the destenies were disposed to weaue the webbe of hir predestined life: And therefore was resolued to espouse hir vnto that noble Gentleman Philon. Euphimia hearkned to this vnliked tale, & with vnliked words refused hir fathers hest, pro∣testing vnto him such reasons to like effect as she did be∣fore, therby to draw him frō his cōceiued purpose. wher∣vnto the wise King hauing made replie, continuing his intended mynde, at length in ragyng wordes and stor∣med mind, he sayd vnto Euphimia:

How much the swée∣ter is the wine, the sharper is the egred sawe thereof. I speake this Parable, for that thou not knowyng or greatly regarding the gentle disposition of thy fathers

nature, in the ende mayst so abuse the same, as where hitherto he hath bene curteous and benigne, he may be∣come through thy disordered déedes, ryghte sowre and sharpe:

and without vtterance of further talke, depar∣ted. Who resting euil content with that fond fixed loue, thought that the next way to remedie the same, was to tel Acharisto, how 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he toke his presumed fault, and in what heinous part he conceiued his ingratitude, and how for the benefites which liberally hée had besto∣wed vpon him, he had brought and enticed his daughter to loue him, that was farre vnagreable hir estate.

And therfore he called hym before him, and with reasons first declared the duetie of a faithfull seruant to his souerain Lord, and afterwards he sayd: That if the receyued be∣nefits were not able to lette him know what were con∣uenient and séemely for his degrée, but would perseuere in that which he had begonne, he would make him féele the iust displeasure of a displeased Prince: whereby hée shoulde repent the tyme that euer hée was borne of wo∣mans wombe.

These wordes of the King semed grie∣uous to Acharisto, & not to moue him to further anger hée séemed as though that (being fearfull of the kinges displeasure) hée did not loue his daughter at all, but sayd vnto hym, that hée deserued not to bée so rebuked, for that it lay not in his power to withstande hir loue, the same proceding of hir owne good will and libertie. And that hée for his part neuer required loue: if she did bend hir mynde to loue him, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 could not remedie that affec∣tion, for that the fréewill of such vnbridled appetite re∣sted not in him to reforme. Notwithstāding, bycause hée vnderstoode his vnwilling mynd, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 from that time forth would so indeuor himselfe, as hée shoulde well 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that the vnstayde mynde of the yong gentlewoman Eu∣phimia, was not incensed by him, but voluntarily con∣ceyued

of hir selfe. You shall doe well (sayde the King) if the effect procede according to the promise. And the more acceptable shall the same bée vnto me, for that I desire it shold so come to passe.

The king liked wel these words, although that Acharisto had conceiued within 〈◊〉〈◊〉 plat of his intended minde, some other treason. For albeit that hée affirmed before the kings owne face, that hée would not loue his daughter, yet knowing the assured will of the louing gentlewoman, hée practised the mariage, and like an vnkind & wretched man, deuised cōuenient tyme to kill him. And fully bent to execute that cruell enter∣prise, hée attempted to corrupt the chiefest men about him, promising promocions vnto some, to some hée assu∣red restitucion of reuenewe, which by fathers fault they had lost béefore, and to other golden hilles, so that hée might attaine by slaughter of the King, to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a kingly state and kingdome. Which the sooner he persua∣ded himselfe to acquire, if in secrete silence, they coulde put vp that which by generall voice they hadde agréed. And although they thought themselues in good assurāce, that their enterprise coulde take no yll successe, by rea∣son of their sounde and good discourse debated amon∣ges them selues for the accomplishement thereof, yet it fortuned that one of the conspiracie (as commonly in suche lyke traiterous attemptes it chaunceth) béeyng with his beloued ladie, and she making mone that little commoditie succéeded of hir loue for hir aduauncement, brake out into these woordes: Holde thy peace (sayde hée:) for the time will not bée long, before thou shalt bée one of the chiefest Ladies of this lande.

Howe can that be (sayde his woman?) No more adoe (quod the Gentleman:) Cease from further questions, and bée merrie: for wée shall enioye together, a verie ho∣nourable and a quiete lyfe.

When hir Louer was

departed, the gentlewoman went to an other of hir gos∣sips very iocunde, and tolde hir what hir louer had sayd: and she then not able to kepe counsell, went and told an other: In such wise as in the ende it came to the cares of the Kings stewards wife, and she imparted the same vnto hir husband, who marking those words, like a mā of great wisedome & experience, did verily beléeue that the same touched the daunger of the Kings person: And as a faithfull seruant to his lorde and maister, diligently harkned to the muttering talke murmured in the court, by him which had tolde the same to his beloued ladie: & knowing that it proceded from Acharisto, which was an 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and sedicious varlet, and that he with thrée or foure other his familiars, kept secrete companie in cor∣ners, iudged that which he first coniectured, to be most certaine and true. Wherefore determined to moue the King therof, and vpon a day finding him alone, he sayde vnto him, that the fidelittie and good will wherwith hée serued him, and the desire which he had to sée him liue in long and prosperous estate, made him to attende to the safegarde of his person, & to hearken vnto such as shold attempt to daūger the same. For which cause, marking and espying the doings of certain of his chamber (whose common assemblies and priuie whisperings mislyking) he feared least they conspiring with Acharisto; shoulde worke treason, for berieuyng of his life: and to the in∣tent their endeuors might be preuented, and his safetie foreséene, he thought good to reueale the same to his ma∣iestie. Then he tolde the King the words that were spo∣ken by the first Gentlewomā, to one or two of hir com∣panions, and disclosed the presumptions which hée 〈◊〉〈◊〉 séene and perceyued touching the same. Amongs the yll conditions of men, there is nothing more common than poyson, conspiracies, and treason of Princes and great

lordes: and therefore euery little suspicion presumyng such 〈◊〉〈◊〉, is a great demonstration of like mischiefe. Which made the Kyng to giue credite to the wordes of his Steward, hauing for his long experience knowen him to be faithfull and trustie. And sodainly he thought that Acharisto attempted the same, that after his death, by mariage of Euphimia, he might be the inheritour of his kingdome. The beliefe wherof, and the singular cre∣dite which he reposed in his Steward besides other thin∣ges, caused him to cōmaunde the captaine of his Guard to apprehend those. iiii. of whom his Steward told him, and Acharisto, cōmitting them to seuerall prisons. Then be sent his officers to examine them, and founde vpon their confessions, the accusation of his Stewarde to be true. But Acharisto, although the whole 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the treason was confessed by those foure conspirators that were apprehēded, and aduouched to his face, and for all the tormentes wherewith he was racked and cruciated, yet still denied, that either he was authour of the enter∣prise, or partaker of a treason so wicked. Then the king incontinently caused the foure Gentlemen of his cham∣ber 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be rewarded, according to the worthinesse of their offense and wer put to death, and Acharisto to be repri∣ued in sharpe and cruell prison, vntill with tormentes he should be forced to confesse that which he knew to be most certain and true, by the euidēce of those that were done to death. Euphimia for the imprisonment of Acha∣risto, conceiued incredible sorrow, and vneths coulde bée persuaded, that he woulde imagine, much lesse conspire that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fact, as well for the loue which Acha∣risto séemed to beare vnto hir, as for the greate good will wherewith he was assured that shée bare vnto him, and therfore the death of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be no lesse griefe vnto him, than the same would be to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 self, the king being

hir naturall and louyng father. Acharisto thoughte on the other side, that if he might speake with Euphimia, a way woulde be founde eyther for his escape, or else for his deliuerie. Wherupon Acharisto being in this delibe∣ration, founde meanes to talke with the Iailors wife, & intreated hir to shewe him so much fauor, as to procure Euphimia to come vnto him. She accordingly broughte to passe, that the yong gentlewoman in secret wise came to speake with this traiterous varlet, who so sone as he sawe hir, sheding from his eyes store of teares, pitifully complaining, sayde vnto hir:

I knowe Euphimia, that the King your father doth not inclose me in this cruell prisō, ne yet afflicteth me with these miserable tormēts, for any suspicion hée conceiueth of me for any intended facte, but onely for the loue which I beare you, and for the like, (for which I rendre humble thankes) that you do beare to me: & bicause that I am werie of this wret∣ched state, & knowe that nothing else can 〈◊〉〈◊〉 me from this painful life, but onely death, I am determined wyth mine owne propre hands to cut the thréede of lyfe wher∣with the destinies hitherto haue prolonged the same, that this my brething ghost, which breatheth forth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dolefull plaintes, maie flée into the Skies, to rest it selfe amonges the restfull spirites aboue, or wandre into 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pleasant hellish fieldes, amongs the shadowes of Creusa, Aeneas wife, or else with the ghost of complaining Dido. But ere I did the same, I made myne humble prayer to the maiestie diuine, that hée would vouchsafe to shewe me somuch grace, as before I dye, I might fulfyl my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 eyes with sight of you, whose ymage still appe∣reth before those gréedie Gates, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 representeth vnto my myndefull heart. Which great desired thing, sith God aboue hath graūted, I yelde him infinit 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and sith my desteny is such, that such must bée the end of

loue, I doe reioyce that I must dye for your sake, which only is the cause that the King your father so laboureth for my death. I néede not to molest you with the false e∣uidence giuen against me, vp those malicious vilaines, that bée alreadie dead: which onely hath thus incensed the Kyngs wrath and heauie rage against me: where∣of I am so frée, as woorthily they bée executed for the∣same. For if it were so, then true it is, (and as lightly you might beleue) y^e I neuer knewe the loue you beare me, and you likewise did neuer know, what loue I bare to you: and therfore you maye thinke that so impossible is the one, as I did euer meane, thinke, or ymagine any harme or perill to your fathers person. To bée short, I humbly doe besech you to beleue, that so faithfully as man is able to loue a womā, so haue I loued you: & that it may please you to bée so myndfull of me in this fading life, as I shal be of you in that life to com. And in saying so, with face all bathed in teares, he clyped hir about the myddle, and fast imbracing hir said:

Thus taking my last farewell of you (myne onely life and ioye) I com∣mende you to the gouernment of the supernall God, & my selfe to death, to be disposed as pleaseth him.

Euphi∣mia, which before was not persuaded y^e Acharisto was guiltie of that deuised treason, now gaue ful beliefe and credite to his wordes, and weping with him for compa∣ny, comforted him so wel as she coulde, and bidding him to bée of good chere, she sayde, that she would seke such meanes, as for hir sake and loue he should not dye. And that before long time did passe, she would help him out of prison, Acharisto although hée vttered by ruful voice that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 talke, for remedie to ridde him selfe from prison, yet he didde but 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all that he spake, addyng further:

Alas Euphimia, doe not incurre your fathers wrath to please my minde, suffer me quietly to take that

death, which sinister Fortune and cruell fate hath proui∣ded to abridge my daies. Euphimia vanquished with in∣speakable griefe and burning passion of loue, saide: Ah Acharisto, the onely ioye and comfort of my lyfe, doe not perce my heart with such displeasant wordes. For what should I doe in this wretched worlde, yf you for my sake shold suffre death? wherfore put awaie y^e cruel thought, and be content to saue your life, that hereafter in ioye & myrth you may spend y^t same. Trusting that yf meanes maye be founde for your dispatche from hence, we shall liue the rest of our prolonged life together, in swete and happie daies. For my father is not made of stone of flint, nor yet was nourced of Hircan Tigre, he is not so malicious but that in tyme to come, hée may 〈◊〉〈◊〉 made to know the true discourse of thyne innocent life, and hope thou shalt atteyne his fauour more than euer thou 〈◊〉〈◊〉 before, the care wherof onely leaue to me, and take no thought thy self, for I make promise vpon mine assured faith to bring the same to passe: Wherefore giue ouer thy conceiued griefe, and bende thy selfe to liue so merie a life, as euer gentleman did, trained vp in court as thou hast bene. I am content sayd Acharisto thus to doe, the Gods forbid that I should declyne my heart and mynde from thy behest, who of thy wonted grace dost seke con∣tinuance of my life, but rather swete Euphimia, than thou shouldest suffre any daunger to performe thy pro∣mise, I make request (for the common loue betwene vs both) to leaue me in this present dangerous state. Ra∣ther wold I lose my life than 〈◊〉〈◊〉 shouldest hazard the least heare of thy heade for my reliefe. We shal be both safe ynough (answered Euphimia) for my deuise proce∣ding from a womans heade, hath alreadie drawen the plotte of thy deliuerance, and wyth those wordes they both did ende their talke, whose trickling teares did ra∣ther

finishe the same, than willing myndes: and eyther of them gyuing a kysse vnto the Tower walle, where∣in Acharisto was faste shutte, Euphimia departed, turmoiled with a thousand amorous prickes, and ceased not but first of all to corrupte and wynne the Iaylers wife, whose husband was sent forth on businesse of the kings.

The conclusion of which practise was, that when she caried meate to Acharisto, according to the ordre appoin∣ted, she should faine hir selfe to bée violentlie dispoyled of y^e prison-key by Acharisto, who taking the same from hir, should shut hir in the prison and escape, and whē hir husband did returne, she should make compl〈…〉〈…〉 of the violence done vnto hir: according to which deuise, the practise was accomplished. And when hir husbande re∣turned home, hearing his wife crie out within the To∣wer, was meruellously amazed, and vnderstanding that Acharisto was deade, (ignorant of the pollicie betwene his wyfe and Euphimia,) hée fell into great rage, & spe••delie repaired to the king, and tolde him what had chaūced. The King thinking that the breache of prison was rather through the womans simplicitie than purposed malice, did mitigate his displeasure, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 forthwith he sent out Scoutes to spie and watche in to what place Acharisto was gone, whose secrete flight, made all their trauell to be in vaine. Then the King when he saw that hée coulde not be found, made proclamation throughout his realme, that who so would bring vnto him the hed of Acharisto, should haue to wife his onely daughter, and after his decease should possesse his Kingdome for dow∣rie of that mariage.

Many knightes did put themselues in redinesse to themselues that enterprise, & aboue al, Phi∣lon was the chiefe, not for gredinesse of the kingdome, but for loue which hée bare vnto the Gentlewoman. Wherof Acharisto hauing intelligence, and perceuing

that in no place of Europa he coulde be safe and sure frō daunger, for the multitude of them which pursued hym vnto deth, caused Euphimia to vnderstand the miserable estate wherin he was, Euphimia which bent hir mind, & employed hir studie for his safegarde, imparted hir loue which she bare to Acharisto, to an aged Gentlewoman, which was hir nurse & gouernesse, & besought hir y^t she wold intreat hir sonne called Sinapus, (one very wel be∣loued of the King) so reach his help vnto hir desire, that Acharisto might return to the court again. The Nurse like a wise woman lefte no persuasion vnspoken, nor counsell vnremembred, which she thought was able to dissuade the yong gentlewoman frō hir conceiued loue: but the wounde was so déepely made, and hir heart so greuously wounded with the thrée forked arrows of the litle blinde archer Cupide, that despising all the reasons of hir beloued nurse, she sayde, howe shée was firmely bente eyther to runne from hir father, and to séeke out Acharisto, to sustaine with hym one equall fortune, or else with hir owne handes to procure death, if some re∣medie were not founde to recouer the Kynges good grace for the returne of Acharisto. The Nurse van∣quished with pitie of the yong mayden, fearyng bothe the one and the sorte daunger that myght ensue, sent for Sinapus, and vpon their talke together, Euphimia and hée concluded, that Acharisto shoulde bée brought agayne vnto the Courte, and that shée hir selfe should present him to the Kyng: wherin should want no kinde of diligence vntill the Kyng did enterteyne him againe for his faithfull seruaunt, as hée was woont to doe. Up∣on which resolution, Acharisto was sente for, and be∣ing come Sinapus and Euphimia together wyth the Nurse tolde hym in what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they thrée had concluded touching his health and safegarde. Which of him being

well lyked, did giue 〈◊〉〈◊〉 humble thankes: And then Sinapus went vnto the Kyng, and tolde him, that there was one newely arriued at Corinth, to make a present vnto his grace of the hed of Acharisto. At which newes the King shewed him selfe so ioyful, as if he had gotten an other Kingdome: and being placed vnder his cloath of state, with his Counsell and Princely trayne about him, telling them the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of that assemblie, cōmaunded hym that brought those newes, to bring the partie forth newely come vnto the Citie to presente the head of A∣charisto. Then Sinapus broughte Acharisto before the presence of the King, who no sooner looked vpon hym, but fell into such a rage, as the fire séemed to flame out of his angrie eyes, and commaunded hym presentlye to bée taken and put to death. But Acharisto fallyng 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vpon his knées, humbly besoughte his Maie∣stie to gyue hym leaue 〈◊〉〈◊〉 speake: But the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sufferyng hym to vtter one woorde, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him away. Then the Counsellours and other Lordes of the Courte, intreated his grace to heare him: At whose requestes and supplications hée 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 contente. Then Acharisto began to say: Most sacred Prince, and redoubted Soueraigne Lord, the cause of thys my pre∣sumptuous repaire before your Maiestie, is not to shew my selfe guiltie of the late beuised conspiracie, ne yet to craue pardon for the same, but to satisfie your Maiestie with that contented desire, whiche by proclamation ye haue prondunced through your highnesse 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉〈◊〉: whiche is, to offer this heade for reuenge of the fault vniustly laid vnto my charge by those foure, which woorthily haue tasted the deserued pame of their 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Whersore I am come hither of mine owne ac∣corde, to shewe the loue and greate desire, whiche euer I had to serue and please your Maiestie: And for that

I would not cōsume my lyfe in your displeasure, I make offer of the same to your mercifull will and disposition, chosing rather to die, and leaue your maiestie satisfied & contented, than to lyue in happie state, your princely minde displeased. But desirous that hour maiestie shuld know myne innocencie, I humbly: besech your grace to heare what I can say, that my fidelitie may bée through∣ly vnderstanded, & the wickednesse of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 myne accusers wel wayed and considered. Then hée began to rehearse all the things done by him for the seruice of his crowne and maiestie, and finally into what daunger he did put himself, when he killed the Lacedemonian king, that went about by treason to murder him: which en∣terprise might appere vnto him to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sure and euident testimonie, that he ment nothing hurtfull or preindicial to his highnesse. And that hée cstemed not his life, when he aduentured for his seruice & sauegarde to employ the same, & after these alleaged causes, he added briefly, that the loue which his maiestie knew to bée betwene him & Euphimia his daughter, ought to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 persuaded him, that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 had rather haue suffered death himselfe, than commit a thing displeasant to Euphimia. And knowing that a more 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thing could not chaūce to hir, than the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 death of hir father, he might wel thinke y^t he wold haue deuised the death of a thousand other, rather than that horrible & 〈◊〉〈◊〉 déede, such as his grea∣test enimie would neuer haue done, much lesse 〈◊〉〈◊〉 which was bounde vnto him by so many receiued benefits, for whose service & preseruacion he had dedicated & vowed his life and soule. But if so be his maiesties rancor and displeasure could not bée mitigated but by doing hym to death, hée desired y^t none of his alleaged reasons should bée accepted, and therfore was there redie to sacrifice his life at his maiesties disposition and pleasure.

Acharisto

by nature, coulde tell his tale excedyngly well, and the more his tongue stode him in seruice, the greater appe∣red his eloquence: Whiche so pierced the minde of the King, and persuaded the Counsellers, and other of the Court, as he was demed giltlesse of the treason: and the matter was so debated, and the King intreated to graūt him pardon, as he was accompted most worthie of his fauour. Then the Kyng, by the aduise of his Counsell, was persuaded, that by force of hys proclamation, his daughter should be giuen to Acharisto in mariage, and his Kingdome for a dowrie, bicause hée had offered his owne head, accordyng to the effecte of the same. So the King repenting him self that he had offended Acharisto, in the ende agréed to the aduise of his counsel, and gaue him his daughter to wife. Whereof Euphimia was so ioyful, as they bée that atteine the summe of their hear∣tes desire. The father liued one whole yeare after this mariage, and Euphimia so pleasant a life for a certaine time, as was possible for any Gentlewoman. Hir fa∣ther was no sooner dead, but the vnkind mā, nay rather brute beaste, had forgotten all the benefites receyued of his kinde and louing wise: and hauing by hir only mea∣nes gotten a Kingdom, began to hate hir so straungely, as he could not abide hir sight, (Such is the propertie of cancred obliuion, which after it crepeth into ambicious heades, neuer hath minde of passed amitie, ne regardeth former benefite, but like a monster and deadly enimie to humane nature, ouerwhelmeth in his bottomlesse gulfe all pietie and kindenesse) and determined in the ende for recompence of such great good turnes, to despoile hir of hir life. Howe thinke you faire Ladies, was not thys a faire rewarde for the loue, the trauailes and sorrowes susteined for this ingrate and villainous man, by that royal ladie, to saue his life, and to take him to husband?

Here is manifest (probatum) that in a vile and seruile minde, no vertue, no duetie, no receiued benefites can be harboured. Here is a lesson for yong Gentlewomen to beware how they contemne and despise the graue ad∣uise of their auncient fathers. Here they maye sée the damage and hurt that vnaduised youth incurreth, when neglecting their parentes holeseme admonitions, they giue them selues to the loue of suche as bée 〈◊〉〈◊〉 their estate and calling. For what should aile the gentle pucell borne of gentle bloud, but to match hir self in like affinitie, & not to care for currish kind, or race of 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Bée there no Gentlemen to be founde of personage and beautie woorthie to ioyne in loue with them? Bée they so precious in nature, or tēder in education as their like can not be vouchsafed to couple in mariage yoke? Com∣pare the glistering golde to drossie durte, and such is the difference betwéene gentle and vngentle. But perhaps bringing vp may alter nature, and custome transforme defect of birth: As Licurgus the lawemaker dyd trie be∣twene the Currish whelpe and the Spaniell kinde, both by training vp running to their contraries, the Spaniel not vsed to hunte eigre vpon the potage dishe, the other nouseled in that pastyme pursuing his game. But that Metamorphosis is seldome séene amongs humane sort, and therfore I aduise the gentle kind, to match them sel∣ues in equall lotte, and not to trust sir Customes curte∣sie in choise of féere. Returne we then to vnkind Acha∣risto, who now in full possession of his desired praio, re∣uerting to his puddle of carlish will and cancred nature, after many thousande wrongs done to this moste noble and gentle Quéene, accused hir to be an adulteresse, and as one in déede, (although most innocent) she was con∣demned to the mercilesse fire. Philon, King of Pelopo∣nessus which (as we haue said before) loued Euphimia as

did the balles of his owne eyes, vnderstanding the cruel∣tie that this wicked mā vsed towards hir, to whom both his life & kingdome did belong, moued with nobilitie of minde, determined to declare to Euphimia the inwarde feruent loue which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bare hir, and to chastise Acharisto for his ingratitude with due correction. Wherfore depe∣ly debatyng with hym selfe of this aduenture, thus hée sayde:

Nowe is the time Euphimia, that Philon shewe what faithful loue he hath euer born vnto thée, and that he deliuer thée bothe from the present daunger wherein thou art, and from the hands of that vnkynde wretche, that is farre vnworthie of such a wife. For if thou had∣dest agréed to thy fathers will, and yelded to the pur∣sute of him that loued thée best, thou haddest no néede of rescue nowe, ne yet bene in perill of the wastful flames of fire, which be readie to consume thy nesh and tender corps, full tenderly sometymes beloued of thy deare fa∣ther, and of thy louing friend Philon.

When he had spo∣ken those wordes, he earnestly disposed him selfe vpon that enterprise. There was in those days a custome in Corinth, that they which were condemned to death, were caried. iii. miles forth of the Citie, and there the sentence pronounced against them, wer put to execution. Philon hauyng intelligence hereof, did put in readinesse a good troupe of horsemen, and being secretely imbarked, arri∣ued at Corinth, and closely the nyght before Euphimia shoulde be brought to the fire, harde by the place where the miserable Ladie should be burnt, into a wood he con∣ueyed his people: and so soone as the Sergeants and of∣ficers were approched nere the place with the ladie, he issued forth, and did set vpon the throng, not suffering one of them to remaine aliue, to carie newes. When he had deliuered Euphimia from that prcsent daunger of hir life, & the companie dispercled, he said to the Quene:

Now thou mayst sée (faire Quéene,) the diuersitie, be∣twene the disloyaltie and vnkindnesse of Acharisto, and the faith and loue of Philon. But for that I meane not to leaue hys ingratitude vnreuenged, thou shalte stays here, vntill thou heare newes of the due 〈◊〉〈◊〉 whiche I shall giue him.

Those dire and cruell wordes foretolde of hir husbandes death, moued hir honest and Princely hearte, which by no meanes coulde be altered from the gentle nature, which it had first tasted and re∣ceiued: And although she had suffred mortall & solemne iniurie of hir vnkinde husband for manifolde benefites, yet (she good Gentlewoman) woulde permit no duetie of a trustie and faithfull wife vnperformed. Wherfore she besoughte Philon vpon hir knées, not to procéede to further reuenge of Acharisto, telling him, that enough it was for hir to haue escaped that presente perill, from which he like a Princely Gentleman had deliuered hir, and therfore during hir life was most bounde vnto him. Philon greately wondred at the goodnesse of this Ladie, howbeit the ingratitude of that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by no meanes he woulde suffer to bée vnpunished. And béeing aduertised that Acharisto remained in his Palace without any sus∣picion of this aduenture, banded neither with Guarde or other assurance, committed Euphimia to safe custodie, and sodainly assailed the Palace of Acharisto: And fin∣ding the Gates open, he entred the citie, crying out vp∣on the wickednesse and treason of Acharisto. At which words the whole Citie began to rise, to helpe Philon in his enterprise. For there was no state or degrée, but ab∣horred the vnkind order of that variet, towards the no∣ble woman their Quéene. Philon aided with the people, assaulted the Palace, and in short space inuaded y^e same: and the Uarlet béeing apprehended, was put to death. The Corinthians séeing the noble minde of Philon, and

the loue which he bare to Euphimia, and knowing that their late Kyng was disposed to haue matched hir with Philon, were very willing to haue him to be their king, and that Euphimia shold be his wife, supposing that vn∣der the gouernement of a Prince so gentle and valiant, they might liue very happily and ioyefully. Execution done vpon that moste 〈◊〉〈◊〉 varlet, Philon caused the Ladie to be conueyed home into hir royall Pallace. And the people with humble submission, began to persuade hir to marie with that yong Prince Philon.

But shée which had lodged hir thoughts and fixed hir minde vpon that caytife, who vnnaturally had abused hir, would by no meanes consent to take a new husband, saying, that the seconde mariage was not to bée allowed in any wo∣man.

And albeit that she knew howe greately she was bounde to Philon, as during life not able to recompence his louing kindnesse and baliant exployte performed for hir safegarde, yet for all hir vnhappie fortune, shée was minded still to remayne a widowe, and well contented that Philon shoulde possesse hir whole domynion and kingdome, and she pleased to liue his subiecte: Whiche state she sayd, did like hir best. Philon, that not for desire of the Kingdome, but for loue of the ladie had attempted that worthie and honourable enterprise, sayd vnto hir:

Euphimia, it was onely for youre sake that I aduentu∣red this dangerous indeuor, to ridde you from the slan∣der that might haue ensued youre innocent death, and out of the cruell hands of him, whome unworthily you did so dearely loue. No desire of kingdome or worldely glorie induced me herevnto: No care that I had to en∣large the boundes of my countrey soile pricked the cou∣rage of my minde (that is altogether emptie of ambiti∣on) but the passion of carelesse loue, whiche this long time I haue borne you in your happie fathers dayes, to

whome I made incessant sute: and to your selfe I was so long a suter, vntil I receiued extreme repulse. For which I vowed a perpetuall single life, vntill this occa∣sion was offred: the brute wherof when I heard first, so stirred the minde of your most louing knight, that drou∣sie sléepe or gréedie hunger, could not force this restlesse bodie to tarrie at home, vntill I reuenged my self vpon that vilaine borne, which went about with roasting fla∣mes to consume the innocent flesh of hir whom I loued best. And therfore mustred together my men of armes, and in secret sort imbarked our selues and arriued here. Where wée haue accomplished the thyng we came for, and haue settled you in quiet raigne, frée from perill of traiterous mindes, crauing for this my fact nought else of you but willing minde to be my wife: which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you do refuse, I passe not for rule of your kyngdome, ne yet for abode in Corinth, but meane to leaue you to youre choise. For satisfied am I, that I haue manifested to the world the greatnesse of my loue, which was so ample as euer King could beare to vertuous Quéene. And so fare well.

At which wordes he made a signe to his people, that they should shippe them selues for returne to Polo∣ponessus. But the Senatours and al the people of Corinth seing the curtesie of Philon, & how greatly their Quéene was bound vnto him, fel downe vpon their knées, and with ioyned hands befought hir to take him to husband neuer ceasing from teares and supplication, vntill shée had consented to their request. Then the mariage was solemnised with great ioy and triumphe, and the whole Ci∣tie after that time, lyued in great felicitie & quiet, so long as nature lengthened the dayes of those two noble Princes.